A/N I wouldn't be surprised if anyone deemed an update in the next decade impossible - for a while even I couldn't see it happening. I got really stuck with this. I had to lengthen and split to get it working. I also had to move the plot around a bit - consequently the OB appointment won't be for a couple of chapters. I really hope you enjoy anyway - consider this part one of the next few chapters :)
Chapter Seven – Follow the Cops Back Home
Lexie banged the vending machine in a temper. It'd been five minutes since she'd sacrificed seventy five cents for a Boost bar and she was fighting the urge to overturn the machine and go on a rampage through the hospital.
She growled as it creaked in protest, thumping it again for good measure.
Wielding no results she gritted her teeth and turned away. She hadn't eaten in thirty six hours, she could no longer feel her legs and she was sure someone had tampered with the hospital heating because her scrubs were soaked with sweat.
She was slowing. A month ago she would have handled the random influx of work with little resistance. Now, sixteen weeks into the complete upheaval of her life, she didn't think she could handle it for another second. She hadn't been home in an entire week spending various hours of the day ducking in to on call rooms all over the hospital for sleep. She'd had countless pages from Mark (which she'd ignored) probably designed to provide an opportunity for him to berate her about her work load.
"He can pin part of the blame on the chief." She thought to herself.
She knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. The hospital was his baby and no sizeable controversy could remain off his radar. She'd heard about 'Mummy tracking' but she'd only thought it applied to mothers, not mother's to be. Every time she passed him (usually in a rush, beeping pager in hand to prove that she was very busy and very capable of handling that business thank you very much) she could feel his eyes following her, boring into her skull. The other Mummy doctors at Seattle Grace however had one crucial advantage; respect. They weren't interns still scrabbling at the bottom of the food chain trying to get it. The last thing her career needed (especially after the 'cutting club' incident) was loss of respect due to the bulge hanging around her waist.
"Lexie are you alright?"
The question caught her off guard and she halted clumsily. George caught her arm before she went tumbling into the gurney pushed against the wall.
"I'm fine." She laughed a little nervously, a wave of heat rolling over her.
"You look like you're about to throw up." He commented, half concerned half reprimanding; "You should take a break."
She made to protest but he pulled her into the elevator, out the entrance of the hospital and into one of the benches on the hospital grounds before she could gather the energy to do so.
"Put your head between your knees." He advised.
Again she made no protest. He was rubbing her back soothingly and with the wind blowing gently against her she almost felt like a human being again.
"You're supposed to be taking it easy."
"Interns don't take it easy."
"Pregnant interns do."
"Pregnant interns shouldn't exist."
He snorted; "So what are you then, a figment of the imagination?"
"No." She gave a small laugh. "Sometimes though, like right now, I like to think I'm just the product of my subconscious warning me not to have sex. Any minute now I'm going to wake up in the crapartment screaming."
He chuckled, his hand soft on her back.
"How long since you've gone home?"
"A week. I've only slept in my glamorous new apartment twice now."
"You should go home. You've been at work well past the required hours."
She shook her head; "The chief will think I'm weak. Or I'll get behind on surgeries."
"Well that's not completely stupid and ridiculous." He said sarcastically with a George styled eyebrow raise, pulling something suspiciously shiny from his lab coat pocket; "Eat this. You need some sugar."
She looked up at the chocolate bar meekly, "Oh thank god."
He snorted; "I think you mean 'thank George.'"
A shrill beep brought them back to their surgical reality; "I got to go, there's a trauma coming in." He inspected her closely; "Are you going to be okay out here?"
Mouth full she gave a curt nod; "Once I finish this I'll come down to the ER."
"The only reason I'm not objecting to that and forcing you to go home is because this is a 911 page!" He called over his shoulder as he walked towards the entrance.
She laughed, savouring the last of the chocolate bar. Her stomach growled hungrily and she had to fight the urge to run to the coffee cart to get another. Turning her mind to the situation at hand she stood cautiously (making sure the sugar had kicked in enough for her to be standing without fainting) and broke into a run.
Halfway down the staircase her own pager went off; 911 to the ER from Meredith. Giving the screen a quizzical look she took the stairs four at a time launching herself forward. For reasons she couldn't quite comprehend worry began to niggle in her bones.
There was a perfectly logical reason why Meredith had paged her and Cristina hadn't. Perfectly. Logical.
She broke into a sprint, pushing past fellow surgeons and nurses with rushed yet polite; "Get out of the way!"s.
She grabbed a yellow coat as she skidded in; tying it around her neck and pushing open the ER doors simultaneously.
"What if she's decided to get an abortion?"
"She's a surgical intern. She's probably been busy with work all week."
"Or, she's grown half a brain and moved all her stuff back into O'Malley's…"
"Would you stop with all the self doubt bullshit?" Callie muttered rubbing her forehead; "It doesn't suit you and it's freaking me out."
He aimed a kick at the mattress directly above him.
"Oh well that's mature."
"You're being an unsupportive bitch."
"You're being a petty arsehole."
"She hasn't come home in an entire week." He said; "I've left messages and pages and…"
"Dear god." She said with a groan; "You're turning into a girl."
"I know." He sighed.
A silence fell between them, lingering lazily in the dark. She could detect the serious undercurrent of their conversation (despite the carefree tone he was trying to build on.) She wasn't a stranger to serious conversations with Mark but the problem was she didn't know how to distinguish between the Lexie pregnancy and the Addison pregnancy. And that seemed extremely important at this point.
"All I want to do is beg her to stick with it." He admitted. "I don't even know why."
"She's been busy with work. Would you stop over-dramatizing it?"
"If I was her I wouldn't be doing it."
"Yes you would."
"Would you stop contradicting me?" He demanded sticking his head out from under the bunk and giving her a pleading look that took all the venom out of her defence.
"Look…" She sighed, trying to find the softest tone she could, "She's going to go through stages where she's okay with it and she's not okay with it. A week ago she was okay; that doesn't automatically mean she's peachy for the next nine months. Maybe this week is a not okay week. She'll get over it."
He pulled his head back in and she could hear the unmistakeable sounds of disbelief; "Addison didn't."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The charming sleaziness was a disguise; she'd known that for a long time. What she didn't know was how she was going to convince him of his worthiness over the coming months.
"You bought a onesie." She sighed; "You're going to be okay at this. I know you are. All the other stuff – the playing, the liking kids – that'll all fall into place. You just got to survive this bit first."
He didn't reply for a moment but then, gruffly, "You're going to have to tell me that a lot."
She smiled; "That's what I'm here for."
They rested peacefully for a while after that, caught up in their own thoughts. At least an hour had lulled before there was any interruption to speak of. The shrill beep of Mark's pager sliced open the peace. He launched himself out of bed and towards the door.
"What's the emergency?" Callie asked curiously.
I'd really appreciate feedback for this chapter - and I really am going to make an effort to get the next few chapters out faster. My friends and I have designed a 'study timetable/bet' to get in shape organisation wise. I'm going to make a point of slotting in fic writing time. :)